A poem for Frank

I'm not sure if I fell in love with you because your name was Frank
or if I fell in love with the name Frank because it was your name.
Perhaps if I could ask you
just why it is you love yourself so much
I'd know.
I'm not sure why I fell in love with you. I don't think it was your name.
But I can't imagine what it was. Likely I was simply enamoured
with your confidence
I never considered that you might just
be prideful.
I'm not sure how I feel about you anymore. I used to be angry.
But I saw you today and I felt nothing but sad.
because I feel like we missed out
on something that could have been
incredible.
I'm not sure if I was even in love. Or if I just thought you were beautiful.
I'm hoping that it wasn't either, because both seemed far too fleeting.
Don't worry about me
I'll be fine, in fact
I worry
about you.




(you heartless cow)

Glistening in the sun

wet with beads of water
her legs dance back and forth
as she pedals the earth through another day
biking down the street
after a dip in the sea
big round lips
laughing to herself
laughing at herself
laughing at the world
a bird sits on her shoulder
her tanned and naked shoulder
she dances round the garden
all slanty eyes and tilty hips
and big round bouncing chest
sweat above her brows
laughing to herself
laughing at herself
laughing at the world
hoisting a child to her hips
cooing softly in the evening
light plays off the ocean
highlighting her features
soft brown hair
falling to her thighs
eyes twinkling in the twilight
laughing to herself
laughing at herself
laughing at the world
sleeping when the day is done
mother nature smiles
a fat and lovely woman
nested in a bed of leaves
on a tree top
at the crux of existence
on the brink of something real
laughing to herself
laughing at herself
laughing at the world

In the morning

I am sitting
at the cafe counter on
the end of my street
listening to people talk
strange bubbling skipping
elliptical poetry
drinking hot chocolate
wishing it was tea
wondering where the day will bring me next
Round about noon
I am biking
down a hill dotted with cherry trees
the wind moves fast behind me
and I'm sailing
yes I'm sailing
down the road to the creek
heading into the sunshine
wondering where the day will bring me next
In the afternoon
I am lounging
in a blanket on the couch
book in hand
I'm flipping through the pages
blurring past the events
of another persons life
smiling at the jests they pose
crying for their sorrow
hearing the lilt of their voices in my ear
and wondering where the day will bring me next
It's the evening
I am lying
on the carpet
by the fire
writing a song
all for myself
stumbling laughing tilty stories
jumbling together in my soul
drinking cold tea
wishing it was hot chocolate
wondering where my life will bring me next
perhaps I shall know
perhaps I will discover
my route, my path
in the morning
in the morning
perhaps I will find you
in the morning
wondering where your day will bring you next

Vanilla Twilight at the fair

Bubbles float in the air
vanilla twilight at the fair
seduced by the men who run the games
I stay and play one more
one more
one more
again
the ferris wheel
the blur of lights
go round and round
and up and down
a carousel
like a magic spell
and I'll stay on
for just one more
one more
one more
again
sugary doughnuts
buttery popcorn
children laughing begging
their parents sighing
one more
one more
one more
again
Bubbles float in the air
vanilla twilight at the fair
one more
one more
one more
again

Of birds and of rabits

of butterflies and bees
of tiger tails and roaring beasts
hidden between the trees
of swaying skirts and dancing feet
of hidden lazy laughing smiles
of umbrellas walking down the street
and roads that go for miles
of foods eaten in far off lands
of boats and trains and people
of cheap motels and one night stands
sparrows in a churches steeple
of whispers in the morning light
of stones dropped into water
of rainfall on a sunny day
a pale and red haired daughter
of friends that kiss and loves that die
of windy days spent sailing
of being alone in a room of books
and sliding down stair railings
of wishes made on fallen stars
of blue days and plain white dresses
of sleeping in a rail way car
cleaning up spilled messes
of loving for a moment
and living in it too
of running on soft silky sand
of knowing what is true